


Ace of Hearts

by lasersheith



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (h for heart, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual!Shiro, Bad Puns, Fluff, Humor, Incubus!Keith, Keith sets out to get that D but ends up with that H instead, M/M, brief mentions of alcohol drugs and orgies, confused roommate!Matt, dream walking, i think i’m funny shhh), rated mature because part of the story takes place in hell, tw: one minor scene involving ritualistic cutting for blood magic, very brief mentions of torture (again- hell), witches! Hunk & Romelle, worse memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 15:22:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasersheith/pseuds/lasersheith
Summary: Keith's excited about his most recent assignment as lowest Incubus on the totem pole. Shiro's easily the hottest mortal Keith's ever seen, and he's sweet and funny to boot. Keith isn't over the moon about the whole 'draining his soul' part, but he's ready to have a good time getting there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, as always, to @wicoppi on twitter for betaing! Additional thanks to @akaiiko for awesome resources on incubus lore in a bunch of different cultures, @wallmakerrelict for additional betaing, and @justsayins for the title! I can't wait until you all see what my amazing artist has in store for you, but she's recovering from personal matters at the moment. I'll be sure to update with the lovely artwork asap!

There is a section of hell that’s one non-stop party. From the most horrible of abominations wrought from the deepest malice of Zarkon’s heart, to the meekest of wayward humans - their time on the rack blessedly halted for the moment - every denizen of hell eventually found themselves in that sector. The allure of endless drinks, of drugs no mortal could survive, and ceaseless pleasures of the flesh proved too strong a temptation for any to resist. 

Any, including even the Prince of Hell himself. 

Lotor cracked a bleary eye open, head splitting with the pounding of his heart. The smell of blood and bile mingled to send his stomach lurching into his throat. A pained groan stretched into an ear-splitting roar as he untangled himself from the bodies covering his bed. “Alright, alright. Everyone out. Royal business to attend to,” he muttered, thrusting a long, clawed hand towards the door. 

The slow scrape of talons and shuffle of feet and squelch of tentacles disappeared behind the archway, leaving him to tend to his hangover in peace. His silken robe felt like needles scraping across his sweat-salted, battered skin as he pulled it over his shoulders and looped the belt around his hips. He longed to soothe his aching throat, but every drop of water turned to ash in his mouth. 

Dragging himself to his study with a dismayed sigh, he sat down at his desk and gritted his teeth as the uneven wheels squeaked. A stack of paperwork sat upon it, half again as tall as even his massive frame, taunting him. 

Lotor only managed to finish submitting the monthly succubus and incubus assignments before leaning his head against the rich mahogany with a pathetic whine. The wheels of his chair squealed again as he slid back, intent at first on just standing for a moment to take a break, but quickly deciding that coffee was the only way he’d be getting through the rest of his paperwork. 

Stalking to his closet, he grimaced as he pulled on a suit and called forth his dark magic for a proper human disguise. His teeth were still far too sharp and his tawny skin had a faintly purple sheen that always brought concerned glances, but he was beyond caring. 

Teleporting was nauseating at the best of times, but with his hangover screaming behind his eyes and tearing at his stomach, he had to swallow back a wretch as soon as he appeared in the alley behind the Starbucks. The line wasn’t as long as he’d been anticipating, and he thanked his lucky stars for the small mercy as he joined the queue. 

Every person in front of him seemed to be ordering the most complicated drink possible; the paperwork he’d have to do was the only thing that kept him from slaughtering them all where they stood and making his own mocha frappuccino to take back to his desk. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket as the line crawled forward. Lotor growled at Sendak’s name flashing on the screen. “Yes?”

“Your incubus assignments are incomplete,” he offered with no preamble, irritation clear in his voice. “You forgot Keith again.” 

Lotor swore under his breath, and looked around the shop. A tall, sweaty, beefcake of a man stood in front of him, clearly having just finished at the gym. A shock of white hair flopped out of the band of the backwards cap he wore, and the tanktop covering his chest was ripped so far down the sides as to really only be a shirt in the most loose of definitions. He was perfect. 

“I have an assignment for him. Something not even he could mess up. I must have simply forgotten to submit the paperwork.” It wasn’t his most convincing of lies, but Sendak seemed to buy it. “I’ll forward it along as soon as I get back from my coffee run.” 

The man turned and gave him a sympathetic smile. Lotor offered him a small one in turn, what little guilt he was still capable of feeling crawling in his gut knowing what he was about to unleash on the poor bastard. 

“See to it that it gets submitted at once,” Sendak demanded, pausing briefly. “And bring me a sugar-free vanilla soy latte.” 

Lotor balked at the disgusting order. “Of course,” he gritted out. “I’m next in line, I should go.” He didn’t wait for Sendak’s reply to hang up and politely give his order to the cashier.

As Lotor fumbled in his pocket for his credit card, the cashier smiled at him. “Oh, the gentleman in front of you put your order on his card. He said he hopes your boss gets off your back.” 

“What a...” Lotor stammered, clearing his throat. “What a kind soul.” 

The cashier agreed and directed him to the pick up area to wait for his drinks. He looked around the shop for the man who had paid for his order and tried his best to smile gratefully when their eyes met. A shiver ran up Lotor’s spine as he summoned forth the magic required to look beyond the man’s physical form and peer into his soul. 

It wasn’t often that Lotor looked upon human souls with his own eyes, but he found himself taken aback at the beauty of this man’s, the way it gleamed and glittered. A brief glance was all he needed to complete his paperwork but he couldn’t tear his eyes away until an annoyed teenager croaking his name shattered his attention. 

Shaking his head, he took the drinks from the barista and turned back towards the man in the hat, but his chair in the corner had already been vacated. Lotor vowed to put it out of his mind as he stalked back to the portal, but the shining silhouette plagued his mind for the rest of the day. 

* * *

Keith stared up at the ceiling of his drab gray cubicle, waiting for the pencil he’d thrown almost ten minutes ago to finally succumb to gravity and clatter back down to him. He had just decided to launch another towards it, hoping to jar it loose, when a horrible screech from the enormous fax machine that took up half of his desk startled him. A piece of paper slowly churned out of the ancient device along with a foul cloud of purple mist that spread across his work surface. It smelled strongly of sulphur, which was typical enough that it hardly bothered even Keith’s keen senses anymore. 

The subject line read  _ Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane  _ and featured a small picture that drew Keith’s attention immediately. The man was handsome, far more handsome than any mark he’d ever been assigned before, but it was his eyes that grabbed Keith’s full attention. They were soft and kind, a steely gray-brown that had warmth blossoming in Keith’s chest and made his pulse quicken. 

It was rare for Keith to get excited about a mark. Normally Lotor stuck him with the worst assignments possible and he had to struggle just to make his quarterly quotas. He felt his luck turning around as he stared at Shiro’s picture. There was something special about this one. He could feel it. 

Never one to waste time when there was work to be done, Keith pocketed the piece of paper and summoned a portal on his cubicle wall. The swirling purple mass carried him up to the human world, depositing him into a dirty alleyway. 

Anxious to get started, Keith closed his eyes and felt his form turn transparent before disappearing all together as his feet floated off of the filthy concrete. He could tell Shiro was close and he didn’t want to be impeded by any mortals along his path, so his easiest option was to fly above them, out of sight and offering only the tiniest gust of chill air to announce his presence. 

Every soul gave off its own distinct energy, and Keith followed Shiro’s like a bloodhound, letting it lead him to an office building at the heart of the city. He drifted past people in fine suits, carrying fancy leather briefcases as they exited the building. Keith surmised that it must have been the end of the workday and was looking forward to following Shiro home and seeing how he spent his downtime. 

When his sense for Shiro’s soul led him to the small office labeled  _ T. Shirogane,  _ Keith thrummed with excitement. He phased through the door and hovered near the ceiling, what passed for breath catching in his incorporeal throat. Leaning over the desk with his disheveled white bangs curling just under the rim of his thin-framed glasses, sat the most gorgeous mortal Keith had ever seen. 

Muscles strained against the soft gray fabric of his shirt and the sleeves were rolled haphazardly up to his elbows over tantalizing forearms. The top few buttons were undone and the slate green tie was pulled loose, perfect for gripping and pulling him in for a bruising kiss. Keith drifted across the room for a better look at the rest of him before the enticing train of thought could ruin his reconnaissance mission. 

The view from the side didn’t offer Keith any aid with his self control. Shiro’s deep blue slacks were perfectly pressed and pulled taut over his bulging, muscular thighs. Keith didn’t truly have a mouth in this form, but that didn’t keep it from running dry. His eyes drifted to the spot where Shiro’s splayed thighs met and he had to suppress a groan at how little the obscenely tight pants left to the imagination. 

He couldn’t help the wave of suspicion that washed over him; Lotor forgot he existed more often than not, and when he did remember Keith it was always to give him the  _ worst  _ assignments. Had he finally earned a little of the prince’s good will? Did Lotor even  _ have  _ any good will to earn? Keith decided not to look this particularly gorgeous gift horse in the mouth, especially considering how hard it was to focus on which part he’d like to ogle instead.

Shiro continued working, scrawling things on little yellow notecards and sticking them to various pages in the large stacks cluttering his desk. Every few minutes, a quiet chime would signal an incoming email and he’d swivel those thick legs around to answer the message right away before turning back to his papers. Watching the cycle held Keith’s lusty gaze for a long while, but eventually even Shiro’s arms straining the fabric of his shirt as he stretched and yawned with increasing frequency wasn’t enough to keep Keith from growing bored. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Shiro finally flipped the last page of the last stack on his desk and pulled off his glasses to rub his tired eyes. Keith was overcome with an odd sense of longing to drift over to him and massage his sore shoulders, but he bit it back. His first contact had to be in a dream if he was going to fulfill his mission. Patience was key. 

Shiro stood and stretched mightily, buttons threatening to pop off in a line down his chest. Keith watched eagerly as Shiro pulled his jacket over his shoulders without bothering to button it and grabbed the largest stack of papers from the pile. After a quick stop to the ornate corner office to drop off his burden, Shiro made his way to the stairs. Keith drifted above him, just far enough behind to shamelessly enjoying the pull of the slacks against his rear as he walked. 

The sun had long since set and the air outside was chilly. Shiro shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around himself, long legs striding quickly down the sidewalk. Keith wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he expanded his form, letting himself become just a bit more solid to block the wind from slamming into Shiro’s back. It was hard work to keep himself invisible to mortal eyes but solid enough to fulfill his task and Keith longed for Shiro to turn up every set of stairs they passed. 

Finally, Shiro arrived at an apartment building and made his way up the steps two at time. On the fifth floor, he pushed open the stairwell door and hurried to the apartment at the very end of the hall. He unlocked the door as quietly as he could manage, shutting it behind himself without turning on the light. By feel alone, he slung his jacket on the hook just inside and slipped off his shoes. 

A faint flashing glow came from the living room, where another man was was sprawled on the couch, a movie playing on the TV in front of him. Shiro smiled, gently shaking the man awake with a hand on his shoulder. “Matt, Matt,” Shiro whispered, “Go to your room, buddy. Your neck’s gonna be really sore if you sleep like that.” 

Matt shook his head and wiped the side of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh, hm,” he grumbled, blinking and looking around in confusion. “Thanks, man,” he mumbled once he finally seemed to get his bearings. He stood from the couch, dragging his blanket with him down the hallway and disappearing behind a door. 

Keith’s gaze followed Shiro as he turned off the TV, straightened up a few cushions on the couch, and tossed the empty soda cans into the recycling bin in the small kitchen. His blood ran hot as Shiro made his way into the bathroom, pulling his tie completely loose and running nimble fingers across his chest to give the straining buttons a well-earned rest. 

He watched in fascination as Shiro turned on the tap to the small shower, twisting the knob as far as it would go towards the red  _ H.  _ Steam began to fill the tiny bathroom as Shiro pulled off the rest of his clothing. Miles of mouth-watering muscle was revealed inch by torturous inch as first the dress shirt and then the thin white undershirt were tossed into a pile on the floor. Keith’s jaw drifted open of its own accord when Shiro reached for his belt, and he knew he had to leave, lest he ruin the entire operation.   

Keith sighed inwardly and phased through the wall into the bedroom he presumed was Shiro’s. It was neat and tidy, a row of freshly pressed suits hanging on a standing rack next to a modest desk. The bed was shoved into a corner with a small nightstand to one side where a book with a red rose on the cover laid open with its pages against the wood.  

Curiosity got the better of him, drawing him in to read the title. It was some kind of romance novel and the thought of a big burly man like Shiro reading such a thing before bed made Keith chuckle. Romance had never been his favorite genre, but it helped to make the dreams of his marks especially tempting, so Keith made a note to see if there was a copy on file in the prince’s library when he returned. 

The room was small and he’d already investigated all of the points of interest, so Keith leaned against the wall and let his eyes slide shut as he prepared himself for the night ahead. The spray of the shower on the other side of the wall lulled him into a half-doze that he saw no reason to fight. Around half an hour later, the sound of creaking bed springs woke him from his accidental nap. 

Keith watched as Shiro curled up on his side, knees close to his chest and arms wrapped around a long cylindrical pillow. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a stuffed animal of a worm, happy smiling face tucked under Shiro’s chin. It was a heart-warming sight and Keith found himself almost hoping his seduction efforts would take a while, knowing it would mean several more nights of watching this beautiful man fall asleep. Dismissing the thought, he took a deep breath and let his consciousness merge into Shiro’s unconscious mind. 

At first Keith thought it hadn’t worked - that he’d somehow flubbed the spell and ended up in the liminal space between the physical world and the plane upon which humans dreamt. It wouldn’t have been the first time. His growing panic ebbed as he twisted his body around, realizing that he was gently falling towards the ground. 

A ground, anyway. 

As his feet touched down he pinpointed Shiro several yards in front of him, his impressive shoulders made even wider by the huge football pads he wore. He was holding a small racket in his left hand and swore under his breath as he swung with all of his might at the shuttlecock drifting towards him in the low gravity. The small feathered ball shot forward with ten times the force Shiro had hit it with and launched itself far beyond the man on the other side of the net. 

“Out of bounds again, kid. You gotta learn some control,” the man coached with just a hint of condescension. 

The snarl Shiro let out in response sent a shiver down Keith’s spine. The man pulled another shuttlecock out of one of his many pockets and served again. Shiro repeated the same powerful, overhanded swing, sending it blazing after its companion. 

“Gently, Shiro. Like this,” the man repeated, serving for a third time. 

“The moon is a really stupid place to play badminton,” Shiro grumbled, pacing the court in great bounding leaps as he waited for his chance to swing again. 

Keith stepped up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Mind if I try?” he asked, voice dripping with as much syrupy sweetness as he could muster. 

“Oh,” Shiro stammered, cheeks tinging red. “Uh, sure.” He handed over the racket. 

Keith had never played badminton before, much less on the moon of all places, but dreams were his natural realm. He waited until the shuttlecock was falling just below his thighs and hit it with a gentle, underhanded swing. 

“Oh,” Shiro repeated, watching in awe as it drifted slowly in an arc towards the other man. “I get it now.” 

Keith smiled and handed the racket over, giving Shiro plenty of time to set up his next swing. 

“Get ready, Iverson! This one’s coming right back at you!” Shiro taunted, unconsciously poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he lined up his shot. He repeated Keith’s motion and sent the feathered ball back towards the net, though it was clearly headed for the far corner. 

Iverson waited too long and was too encumbered by his heavy pads; he lunged at the last second, but the shuttlecock landed in the very corner of the court, kicking up a spray of lunar dust in its wake as it bounced. He landed on his knees, skidding to a stop and jabbing his racket into the ground. 

Shiro leapt into air with a fist raised over his head, letting out a joyful noise of triumph. He turned towards Keith as he drifted back down, grinning wide and holding his thumb up in gratitude. Keith smiled back, returning the gesture as Iverson bounded over to them. 

Shiro smirked as the older man placed a hand on his shoulder. “Good job, son. I’m proud of you.” A single tear slid down his cheek as his form began to shimmer. Soon he’d faded out of the dream entirely. 

Turning back towards Keith, Shiro grinned again. “Thanks for your help! You’re really good at this game!” 

Keith cleared his throat and looked deeply into Shiro’s eyes. One corner of his mouth twitched up into his best sultry smirk as he cocked a hip to the side. “No problem, I’m good at a lot of things,” he replied, his voice low and husky, burning with the heat roiling in his gut. 

Shiro seemed to consider for a moment. “Super Smash Brothers? My friend and his sister always kick my ass. I could use a new 2v2 partner.” 

Keith laughed and stepped closer until they were almost chest to chest. “Sure, whatever you want,” he murmured, breath heavy and hot on Shiro’s ear. He turned his head and let his lips gently brush Shiro’s cheek in a ghost of a kiss. 

Before Shiro could react, Keith pulled himself out of the dream and leapt up towards Shiro’s ceiling. He hung there, invisible to mortal eyes, for only half a minute before Shiro was sitting up in bed. 

Keith smirked as Shiro let his hand drift up to his cheek with an awed smile before laying back down against his pillows. The fluffy worm had rolled away with Shiro’s sudden movement and he dragged it back to cuddle it against his chest again. He pressed a kiss to the top of the snake’s head and was asleep again in seconds. 

_ No problem,  _ Keith thought to himself, summoning a portal to take him back to his desk. His eyes drifted back to Shiro’s peacefully sleeping form as he went through the otherworldly swirling gate, a plan already forming in his mind. 

* * *

It took every ounce of Keith’s self control to stay away from Shiro for the next few days. He busied himself with research on the game Shiro had mentioned, more than happy to spend a few afternoons watching YouTube videos of angry teenagers shrieking as their characters were killed. When he thought himself knowledgeable enough at the game’s mechanics to be passable at it considering the power he held over the dream realm, Keith moved on to searching the prince’s library for the book Shiro kept on his nightstand. 

It was more than a little surprising that amidst the dusty tomes of medieval torture texts interspersed with tax law addendums and the entire  _ Chuck Tingle  _ anthology in Lotor’s collection, Keith found the flowery romance novel. It was even more surprising how enthralling the book was; Keith could hardly put it down and finished it in just a few hours. 

Deciding that three days was plenty of time, Keith waited until it was early evening in the mortal realm and summoned another portal, closer to Shiro’s office this time. The familiar freeing feeling of weightlessness overtook him and he flew there with anticipation burning in his chest. Just as before, Shiro’s neat suit was delectably rumpled and sinfully tight. 

Keith had only been hovering and appreciating the view for a few minutes before Shiro’s glasses were neatly deposited in their case and tucked away in his pocket. Excitement buzzed throughout Keith’s being as Shiro tidied his office and dropped another stack of papers down the hall before heading to the stairs. 

He didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry despite the late hour and the rest of building being largely empty. Keith didn’t share his indifference, quickly growing impatient at the sedate pace with which Shiro strode down the sidewalk. The streets were nearly as empty as the office had been, with only a few passersby heading in the opposite direction. 

A woman was huddled against a building just off the sidewalk, a ragged and dirty blanket covering her as she shivered in the chilly night air. Shiro slowed further when he saw her and his shoulders drooped. He reached into the pockets of his jacket and slipped his glasses and phone into his pants pockets before shrugging it off of his shoulders. 

Keith’s brows furrowed as he watched Shiro quietly approach, leaning down and holding the jacket out towards her with a smile. “It’s really cold tonight,” he said softly as she looked at him in astonishment.

She reached out a tentative hand and took it, pulling it over herself with a watery smile. “Bless you, dear.” 

Shiro stood and rolled his sleeves down from his elbows, not bothering to button the cuffs. Keith waited a moment before following after him. Most of his marks were genuinely bad people who deserved to have their souls harvested. He’d never had one before who would give up an expensive suit jacket to a stranger. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

He snapped out of his musing as Shiro rounded a corner, walking much more briskly without the added warmth of his jacket to shield him against the wind. Keith caught up to him as he bounded up the stairs to his apartment, opening the door as quietly as he had before. No one was waiting in the living room this time, and Shiro didn’t bother tidying or even heading into the bathroom for a shower. 

Keith frowned again as he watched Shiro shuck off his suit, leaving it in a rumpled pile on the floor as he crawled under his covers in only his boxers. An uneasy feeling bloomed in Keith’s chest as he waited for Shiro to fall asleep. He seemed so tired, but his conscious mind wouldn’t relent; Keith could almost feel the thoughts spinning in Shiro’s head though he couldn’t read what they were. 

It was technically against the rules, but Lotor would have no way of finding out that Keith had eased the troubled man into sleep with a pulse of contentment. His grasp over the emotions of mortals was normally only useful for heightening their sexual desires, but it wasn’t a difficult leap to make once he’d mastered the art. Shiro finally drifted off to sleep, almost seeming to melt into his pillows. 

Keith hesitated as Shiro began to dream. He had seemed so tired, surely he’d earned a bit of rest. Keith wasn’t due back at his post for hours anyway, there was no reason to rush things. He’d let Shiro have a few private moments before jumping in. 

Keith watched him as he slept, studied the sharp lines of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips, the graceful sweep of his brow. Many would consider the scar running from cheek to cheek across his nose to be a flaw, but Keith found that it only made him more handsome, fiercer somehow. An office job seemed wasted on someone so attractive, Keith mused. Shiro wouldn’t have been out of place on the red carpet. 

It wasn’t long before the sleeping man’s rest became unsettled. His eyes twitched rapidly behind his lids and his brows furrowed. The blanket rose and fell with his heaving chest and rippled around him as he began to toss and turn. Keith frowned and let himself slip into Shiro’s dream to see what was disturbing him. 

The cool, air conditioned atmosphere of Shiro’s bedroom warped at once into an oppressive, muggy swelter that threatened to choke Keith as he got his bearings. A jungle surrounded him, fearsome growls and roars making his blood run ice cold despite the heat. A new sound joined the awful noises and it took Keith a moment to realize it was Shiro crying out in pain and fear. He didn’t waste any time diving through the thick underbrush, summoning a long blade into his outstretched hand when his path was barred by foliage.

“Shiro!” Keith wailed, finally having sliced his way into the clearing where Shiro stood surrounded by beasts. 

Shiro’s head swiveled toward him at the noise, eyes going wide in shock. Unfortunately, his shout had also drawn the attention of the monsters circling Shiro. Four sets of amber, vertically slitted eyes turned toward Keith. Claws that were easily as sharp as any torture implement Keith had seen in the underworld hung at the ends of scaly arms that looked like children’s toys compared to the endless rows of yellowed fangs bared at him. 

Keith held his blade before him in a two-handed grip and widened his stance, preparing himself only fractions of a second before all four charged him at once. Even though it was just a dream and his body being destroyed in this realm would only earn him a long wait in an annoying line down below, Keith still felt fear coursing through him. It had been a long time since he’d had to fight and he didn’t relish the idea of being torn limb from limb. 

He parried a sweeping blow from his closest attacker and sliced at it, the dormant memories of battles long ago still lingering in his muscles. It shrieked in pain as Keith’s blade connected, but he’d left his back exposed to another monster, and gasped as he felt claws rake down his dreamflesh. 

Luckily, Shiro had managed to find a large tree limb, running in just as Keith feared he’d be overwhelmed. He swung it like a club into two of their foes, sending them scrambling to the dusty ground. Keith risked a glance to the side as the beasts regrouped to assess this new threat. His eyes met Shiro’s and they shared a determined smile. 

Sword and branch swung in a dizzying dance as Shiro and Keith fought back to back, footsteps completely in sync while they turned to dodge attacks and send the monsters reeling. One fell to Keith’s sword, a long gash to the throat and chest bleeding the thing dry. Another stumbled from a vicious swing of Shiro’s cudgel to its head, seeming only to be dazed before falling to the ground limp and unmoving. The other two watched their companions fall and let out blood-curdling shrieks before fleeing back into the jungle. 

Keith lowered his sword and took in a deep breath, letting the blade fade from the dream in a wisp of smoke. Shiro dropped the wood in his hand and laughed incredulously, turning to face him. 

“You were amazing! You saved me!” He pulled Keith into his arms for a hug, nearly crushing him against his chest. 

Keith chuckled and nuzzled his face into the crook of Shiro’s neck. “Couldn’t have done it without you,” he murmured, letting his lips ghost along the salty skin of Shiro’s throat. 

Shiro shivered against the touch and let out a gasp of a breath before slowly pulling away, holding Keith’s shoulders in his outstretched hands to look at him. “Who are you?” 

Keith poked his tongue out to wet his bottom lip as their gazes locked. “A friend,” he said soothingly, pulsing out with his emotions. Shiro’s eyes clouded as the wave of contentment washed over him. 

“A friend,” he repeated, trance-like, voice distant. 

Keith nodded and reached up to cover Shiro’s hands with his own, running his thumb along Shiro’s wrists. This was always his favorite part of his assignments. “You can call me Keith, if you like.” 

Shiro nodded, pupils dilated and unfocused. “Keith,” he repeated in a reverent whisper. 

Keith reached out again, this time with longing and desire. Shiro’s brows furrowed in confusion as the pulse of lust hit him, eyes clearing with a shake of his head. “Well,” he coughed quietly and dropped his hands back to his sides, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a shy smile. “Thank you for helping me, Keith. I would have been a goner for sure without you.” 

That had never happened to Keith before. He cocked his head to the side and studied Shiro’s genuinely fond expression. Where had he gone wrong? Had he pushed too hard? It had been decades since he’d made a mistake like that. 

“Sure,” Keith replied belatedly as Shiro watched him expectantly. He looked around the jungle and frowned. Normally nightmares were the easiest dreams to turn into a successful draining, the failure had him thrumming with annoyance. “Where are we, anyway?” 

Shiro followed his confused gaze. “I think… I think we’re in Jurassic Park?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m… I’m dreaming, right? This is a dream?” 

Keith smirked at the second chance he’d been given and took a step closer. “Yup.” He let his lips pop at the end of the word, patting Shiro’s chest gently. “Just a dream.” 

“But you… you don’t seem like a dream…” Shiro murmured, looking down at Keith’s hand against his shirt. 

He rubbed at Shiro’s collarbone in a slow line and looked up into his eyes. “Why not?” 

Their gazes met again and Shiro swallowed hard, stilling Keith’s hand with his own. “I’ve had this dream before,” he whispered, anxiety leaching into his words. “And you’ve never been in it.” 

Keith reached up with his other hand and cupped Shiro’s chin. “You needed rest. You were so tired, had to help.” The lie sent an unanticipated pang of guilt into the pit of Keith’s stomach. 

“Thank you.” The soft words and even softer smile of unabashed gratitude caught Keith’s breath in his throat. 

He let his eyes slide closed and rocked onto the balls of his feet. The tentative slide of Shiro’s lips against his made him dizzy and the familiar feeling of his powers growing stronger as he collected the soul’s energy buzzed beneath his skin. Keith tilted his head to the side and pressed himself closer, parting his lips and probing gently with his tongue. He could feel the erratic beat of Shiro’s heart pressed against his own chest. 

The kiss deepened as Shiro finally let his own mouth fall open just far enough to allow Keith entrance. A surge of power rippled through Keith the likes of which he’d never felt before. Normally it took several nights of marathon sex to draw this much power from a soul. He almost couldn’t find it in himself to complain, though a tingle in the back of his mind whispered  _ don’t drain him too fast, then it’ll all be over.  _

Keith pulled away with a gasp at the thought. Shiro bit his already swollen bottom lip and looked down at Keith with nervousness swimming in his eyes. He wasn’t entranced at all, his grip on Keith’s waist still firm, and there was none of the lust that Keith had been surging in his expression. It was as though he hadn’t been drained at all, though Keith could feel his increased power rippling. Shiro should be dazed, almost drunk from the sensation, yet… 

Keith’s soul lurched as someone tried to summon him back to his cubicle. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Gotta go. I’ll be back soon. Promise.” He didn’t give Shiro a chance to comment before pressing their lips together for one more brief kiss. 

* * *

Traveling by portal was normally a pleasant experience for Keith, drifting and twisting through the ether. Weightless and formless and free, he could soar between realms at his whim and loved every moment. Being  _ summoned _ through a portal, however, was an altogether different feeling. 

Blackness swirled around him, gripping at him so hard he could feel his form condense, feel the greedy hands of the underworld all around him, dragging him into their depths. His lungs required no air, but still they fought and gasped at the pressure constricting them. Keith’s path was chosen, inescapable, even as he railed against it with all of his strength in a panic. An eternity passed in an instant, and he was tumbling through the other side, trembling on his hands and knees in his cubicle, overly-large boots in front of his face.

“On your feet, demon,” Sendak’s harsh voice growled, reaching down to grab the back of Keith’s shirt and haul him up, still gasping. 

Keith quelled his shaking limbs and batted away the huge arm manhandling him into an upright position. “What do you want?” He asked through gritted teeth, smoothing away the rumples in his clothing from his unanticipated journey and less-than-graceful landing. 

Sendak’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at Keith, an unimpressed scowl twisting his sharp features. “Your report is late. I am anticipating yet another month of failure, but the process must be followed.” 

Fighting back the urge to roll his eyes, Keith reached a hand out toward his desk, summoning a sheet of a paper and a small box to his hand. He closed his eyes and felt within himself for the surge of energy he’d collected moments before. The marks on the box glowed with eerie violet light and the latch flipped open of its own accord. Keith concentrated on releasing the energy, sending a piece of it from his body to fill the velveted bottom and swirl halfway up the sides of the box. The latch closed again and Keith used the lid to fill out the report and thrust both box and paper into Sendak’s chest. 

“There. 10 percent. Would have been more if you hadn’t pulled me out in the middle of a collection.” Their eyes met for a long moment, neither backing down. 

Eyes burning with overt malice, Sendak took both items, tearing his gaze away to scan the report. “How did you manage this in a single session?” Sendak glowered, voice brimming with suspicion. 

Keith shrugged, projecting an air of nonchalance that he didn’t feel. “Maybe I’m just that good,” he said, flitting his eyes to the side to avoid Sendak’s scrutiny. 

“I highly doubt that.” Shivers ran up Keith’s spine at Sendak’s tone but he didn’t look back. “You’re long overdue for an audit. See to it that your collections are properly catalogued after every excursion for Haxus to review weekly.” 

Keith gritted his teeth, suppressing a groan of irritation as he nodded. Sendak turned on his heels and stalked away through the endless rows of cubicles. Not bothering to watch him go, Keith flopped into his uncomfortable chair and let out a deep sigh. 

The wheels squeaked as Keith slid the chair forward to rest his elbows on either side of his ancient keyboard and hold his head in his hands. Dealing with Sendak was always awful, but forcing an audit upon him was needlessly cruel. There was far too much paperwork involved. He hit the power button on his computer and stared at the screen as it flickered to life. 

Booting up the IBM 5150 took ages and Keith had no idea how it ran at all, if he were honest. Some terrible and brilliant demon had figured out how to coerce the rusty bucket of bolts to run Windows Vista, just to add insult to injury. At least it gave him plenty of time to ruminate on the evening and thoughts of Shiro drifted back to his mind. 

The kiss they’d shared had easily been the best of Keith’s long life. His lips tingled with the memory and his stomach flipped with butterflies. Shiro had seemed put off when Keith had tried to use his powers to amplify his lust, but that kiss… It didn’t make any sense.

Keith closed his eyes and focused on the remaining energy thrumming through him. It was easily enough to sustain him for weeks. A simple kiss shouldn’t have drained Shiro’s soul so much. And how was it that Shiro had seemed largely unaffected by Keith’s power? There was too much he didn’t know. One thing was clear though: he needed to see Shiro again as soon as possible to see how much of his soul remained.

He supposed it was possible Shiro just had an unusually strong soul. It wasn’t entirely unheard of for a mortal to possess so much inner strength. Rare, certainly, but not impossible. There was something about him that Keith could only describe as  _ different.  _ He wouldn’t know for sure until he had time to study the man more. 

What seemed like an age later, the computer had finally loaded the various reports Keith would need to file in triplicate as well as the special audit forms Haxus would need to review along with the standard logs. Keith sucked in a deep breath through his nose and let it hiss out past his gritted teeth as he began the grueling printing process. 

* * *

Keith prepared as much of his ream of paperwork as he could before slipping into Shiro’s dream that night. Each form and its copies lay in organized stacks on his desk as he summoned a portal that would take him to Shiro’s apartment. It was a hard choice to forgo following Shiro around at work, as much as he liked to watch the way his fancy suits strained against his muscles, Keith didn’t want to give Haxus any ammunition to pull him into a disciplinary committee hearing.

He’d timed things expertly, stepping out of the portal only seconds before the dripping of the shower in the next room stopped. Shiro trudged into the bedroom a moment later with damp hair wearing only tight gray boxer briefs that had Keith’s mouth watering. He seemed less tired than the night before; the dark circles under his eyes had lightened and his posture didn’t seem quite as coiled. Keith smiled, hoping the pleasant dream he’d spun out of Shiro’s nightmare had helped. 

Shiro climbed into bed and pulled up his covers, grabbing the soft stuffed animal perched atop his pillows and snuggling it to his chest. It took all of Keith’s strength of will to resist the urge to coo at the sight. 

“It’s been a long day, Dr. Worm. A very long day,” Shiro murmured through a yawn as he settled further into the nest of blankets and pillows around him. 

Keith had to resist the urge to lull Shiro to sleep again, knowing somewhere Haxus would be watching with a keen eye, eager to record any breach of protocol, no matter how minor. It took nearly an hour for Shiro to finally drift off and another half an hour for his eyes to flit about under their lids, signaling the beginning of a dream. Pulling out a notebook and pen, Keith jotted down a few notes for his report before taking a deep breath and slipping into Shiro’s mind. 

The lights were off in the modest living room, the figure on the couch illuminated only by the flickering screen of the television. Keith stepped around it, smiling as he saw Shiro huddled under a blanket with his knees drawn up under himself. Instead of a bowl of popcorn, a pot of still-steaming macaroni and cheese sat on an oven mitt atop his lap. Two spoons jutted out from the mass of pasta, their handles resting against the side of the pot. 

Shiro turned his head and smiled back at Keith, sending a wave of butterflies exploding in his stomach. Keith watched, transfixed, as Shiro pulled back the blanket and gestured for him sit down. His legs refused to budge, so he floated toward the couch and allowed himself to be cocooned into the blanket against Shiro’s side. 

“I’m glad you could make it,” Shiro said with a shy smile, the blue glow of the TV casting his pink cheeks in an ethereal purple haze. 

Keith reached across him and grabbed one of the spoons, digging out a heaping portion and bringing it up to his lips with a contented hum. “Wouldn’t miss this for anything,” he assured, surprised at how much truth his words carried. 

Shiro wrapped his arm around Keith’s back and let his hand rest on Keith’s hip, drawing him closer. He picked up the other spoon with his free hand and dug in as he continued watching the movie. 

A hulking beast battled a giant CGI robot on the screen, and Keith knew he was supposed to be rooting for the robot, though he wasn’t sure why. Shiro was grinning around his spoonfuls of macaroni, gasping and cheering in turns, jostling Keith’s shoulder in his excitement. Keith would have given anything to sit there with him all night, just basking in his presence, though knew he no longer had that luxury. He shifted in Shiro’s loose embrace, leaning up to press his lips to Shiro’s cheek. Shiro stiffened and drew in a harsh breath at the contact. Something about the rigid posture gave Keith pause and he probed out with his emotions to examine Shiro’s soul. 

A blinding light filled his mind’s eye and the intensity made him grit his teeth, but Keith kept searching. It was a vast pool of energy, swirling around and through Shiro’s form. At some point through the ages he’d stopped searching his assignments’ souls. He usually couldn’t bring himself to look upon the gnarled and twisted spirits lying under the surface. Most of his marks deserved their damnation and Keith felt little guilt from being its harbinger. 

But Shiro’s soul was nothing like he’d ever seen before. A few wisps at the edges were singed, but it was largely whole and glowed a brilliant violet. Keith gasped and pulled away. It was nearly pristine, absolutely undeserving of condemnation and showing no signs of having been drained just the night before. 

Keith stared into Shiro’s eyes in confusion. How had a man with a soul so pure come to be on the Prince’s list? Had he sold it somehow, without leaving it charred and disfigured? It didn’t seem possible. Shiro held his gaze with a quiet resignation. 

“Something’s wrong.” Keith’s brows furrowed and Shiro looked away, irritation rolling off of him in waves. Keith put his hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “What is it?” 

Shiro let out a long breath that ended in a mirthless chuckle. “I wonder what it says about me that I have to explain this even in my own head.” 

Keith frowned, something about the slump in Shiro’s posture sitting like lead in his stomach. “You don’t have to explain anything to me if you don’t want to.” He wasn’t sure what made him say it, but the watery smile it earned him let him know it was what Shiro wanted to hear. 

Shiro twisted, throwing his arms around Keith’s shoulders and crushed Keith into his chest. Keith returned the hug, letting one hand trail up and down Shiro’s back. His eyes slid closed and he felt power surging through him again, but Shiro didn’t react, only moving to let his cheek nuzzle Keith’s hair. Shiro’s eyes were dry when he leaned back from the embrace and his smile took Keith’s breath away almost as much as the abrupt halt of the drain. 

“Sorry, can we…” Shiro licked his lips and let his eyes flit back to the TV. “Can we finish the movie? Like this?” He settled back and tucked Keith under his arm again until Keith’s head was lying on his chest. 

Keith nodded against the soft cotton of Shiro’s shirt. “Whatever you want, Shiro,” he murmured, a tingle running up his spine at the exquisite view the position offered. Shiro’s arm squeezed around him briefly and relaxed again. 

It was hard for Keith to stay focused on anything with so many thoughts swirling through his head. He knew he needed to figure out why he’d been assigned to harvest Shiro’s soul in the first place and how he was able to pull energy from him with such little physical intimacy, but between the flashing screen and the lust rippling under his skin at their proximity, Keith was no closer to an answer by the time the movie was over. 

The credits began to roll and Keith let his hand run across Shiro’s stomach and chest, biting back a groan as he felt the hard planes and ridges of muscle underneath his fingers. Shiro reached up and gently placed his hand over Keith’s, stilling it. 

“Why are you here, Keith?” His voice was so quiet Keith could barely make out the words. 

The question hit him hard. He couldn’t tell Shiro that he was here to drain his soul, but even the thought of lying to him made Keith’s heart ache. “What do you mean?” 

Shiro sat up straighter, moving Keith off of his chest but keeping hold of his hand. “Why do you keep showing up in my dreams?” 

The intensity of Shiro’s stare seemed to bore straight through him and Keith found it hard to meet his eyes. “It’s… it’s my job,” he mumbled, looking away. 

Keith swallowed past the lump in his throat as Shiro cradled his chin, turning back to face him. “It’s your job to come into my dreams?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

All Keith could do was nod. He knew he was close to failing this assignment, but the thought of having to leave Shiro was even worse than whatever horrors the disciplinary committee would subject him to when he returned. Keith’s heart fluttered as Shiro’s lips twitched into a fond smile. 

“So you take people’s bad dreams away and help them sleep better?” 

Keith shrugged one shoulder, not daring to look away again. “Sort of.” 

Shiro nodded once, just a small bob of his chin. He let his thumb drift over Keith’s cheek for a moment. “I still can’t tell if you’re real or not,” he admitted quietly, dropping his hand. 

Keith opened his mouth to answer, still unsure of what he was going to say, when a piercing shriek enveloped the cozy living room, seeming to emanate from nowhere and everywhere all at once. It startled Keith badly enough that it took a moment for him to realize it was Shiro’s alarm clock. He took a deep breath just a hair too late and found himself swirling through the ether, gasping around the nothingness as the dream ended. 

Biting back the panic of careening through the void alone, Keith focused as hard as he could on stilling himself. The power he’d drawn from Shiro thrummed throughout his being and it was far easier to steady his course than he’d anticipated. He took a moment to get his bearings and still his thundering heart from the unexpected jolt and stepped calmly back into Shiro’s bedroom. 

Keith knew he should head back to Hell, and he could feel Haxus’s eyes on his back as he watched Shiro go through his morning routine. He had to double check to make sure he was still invisible to humans several times as he watched Shiro go through a round of pushups, situps, and squats. It was easy to lapse into a solid form without constant attentiveness and Shiro was doing his morning exercises in only his underwear. 

Tearing his eyes away from the tantalizing sight took more willpower than Keith thought he had, but he finally managed. It was hard to think with such a distraction right in front of him. As a demon, moral quandaries were far from Keith’s usual wheelhouse, but even demons had to draw a line somewhere. At least that’s what Keith tried to tell himself as his eyes drifted back to Shiro, heading into the bathroom for a shower. He was powerless but to follow. 

While he watched shamelessly and with a painfully dry mouth, Keith made his decision: as much as Keith wanted to suck the man’s soul out through his (quite impressive) manhood, he couldn’t bring himself to damn an innocent human to eternal torment. No matter how much he wanted to. 

Keith finally felt like he could breathe again as Shiro started pulling on his clothes for the day. The feeling didn’t last long as Shiro picked out a devastating black suit with a deep indigo tie and pulled them on before heading out off to work. Keith followed as if in a trance.

Shiro had a lovely spring to his step, and Keith couldn’t help but hope it was because of his dream. Their dream. Warmth spread through his chest at the thought and Keith did his best to tamp it down. He knew he shouldn’t even be following Shiro still, there was no chance he would decide to pop off for a nap so soon after waking and incubi were forbidden from manifesting completely in the mortal realm. But still, he followed, telling himself it was because of the alluring sight of Shiro walking in front of him and not his deep desire to stay at the man’s side. 

Shiro smiled and waved to passersby as he walked, not in any hurry. Oddly enough, people actually returned his friendly greetings instead of scurrying off with a scowl. Shiro was definitely not at all like Keith’s usual assignments. 

Keith sighed to himself. He didn’t want to get reassigned to another scumbag like the rest of his marks had been. He wanted to stay with Shiro. But if he stayed, he’d eventually have to drain Shiro’s soul and drag him away to the underworld, or pretend that he’d failed in his mission and get sent to the dreaded disciplinary committee. He had no idea what to do. 

_ Least the view’s nice,  _ he thought to himself as he watched Shiro bend over in his tight slacks to pick up a stack of magazines someone had knocked off a street vendor’s cart. The frail old man was beaming from behind the counter and thanking Shiro for collecting his wares, citing his bad back and weak knees. Shiro smiled back at him, assuring him it was no trouble. 

Something prickled in the air, like static electricity right before a lightning strike. Keith whipped his head up and down the sidewalk, on high alert for danger. A cyclist was barreling down the alleyway right across from the cart. He wasn’t even looking to see if the narrow path between the vendor’s farthest shelf and the crosswalk was clear, his head was turned down to his handlebars, staring at the cellphone strapped there.  

He could have screamed Shiro’s name; Shiro might have heard and might have gotten out of the way. But he didn’t. He couldn’t take that risk. Instead, Keith closed his eyes and lunged toward Shiro’s kneeling form as hard as he could, taking solid form in midair. 

The impact sent a jolt of pain through Keith’s body and he grunted as he landed on top of Shiro a few feet down the concrete. Shiro stared up at him in awe as the old man yelled at the negligent cyclist and shook his fist. 

“Keith,” Shiro whispered, his mouth falling open. He raised a hand and pressed it to the side of Keith’s face. “You’re… you’re real.” 

Keith swallowed hard and nodded, not trusting his voice. 

Shiro chuckled breathlessly and one corner of his mouth ticked up into the most beautiful smile Keith had ever seen. “You saved me.” His thumb ran along Keith’s cheek reverently. 

Keith wanted to respond, but he was hopelessly lost in the shimmering silvery-brown eyes staring up him like he’d personally hung the moon and all the stars. The warmth of Shiro’s body pressed against him made him shiver in desire. He had just gotten his wits about him enough to lean his head in to press their lips together, busy sidewalk be damned, when the painful tugging sensation of being summoned ripped him backward. 

“I’m sorry, Shiro,” Keith said, gritting his teeth. He still had enough extra energy to fight the summoning for a moment, but it felt like needles digging into his skin. “I have to go. Be careful.” Shiro’s confused and alarmed nod was the last thing he saw before everything went black. 


	2. Chapter 2

Shiro sat on the sidewalk completely stunned. His mouth hung open to draw in a breath his lungs just couldn’t seem to find. Not only was Keith real, he’d just appeared from thin air to save Shiro from serious injury, disappearing as quickly as he’d come. It felt ridiculous to think it, but there was no other description he could fathom.

Keith was his guardian angel.

He’d never believed in angels or spirits or anything supernatural in his life, and yet there Keith had been. Right when he’d needed him most. It was a lot to take in.

“Are you alright son?” The old man had toddled his way out of his stall and stood before Shiro with an outstretched arm.

Shiro blinked up at him, slamming back into reality with a start. He took the man’s hand but put almost none of his weight in it when he stood, brushing himself off. “Yeah, I…” Shiro licked his lips and looked at the crosswalk where the biker had continued past, unaware of what he’d almost done. “It was lucky that I was able to get out of the way in time,” he finished with a polite smile at the man.

The old man nodded sagely and patted his arm. “Kids these days, too busy tweetering to pay attention! He coulda killed you!”

Shiro laughed and straightened his jacket and tie. “I’m just glad no one was hurt.”

The man agreed and wished him well, sending him on his way with a free package of beef jerky for his troubles. Shiro happily snacked on it while he strolled toward his office. He’d been putting in a lot of overtime lately and had left home with plenty of time, so he felt no need to rush.

First and foremost, he owed Romelle and Hunk a hearty apology. He wouldn’t say so to anyone, but he’d been politely nodding along as they talked about what he’d always thought of as complete hokum for years. Well, he’d definitely be paying them a visit during his lunch hour now that he knew he had a guardian angel.

He was still having trouble believing it, but the more he thought about it the more it made sense. The first time he could remember seeing Keith in his dreams Shiro had felt instantly comfortable, somehow soothed by his presence. And then Keith had saved him, both in dreams and now out here in the real world, too.

Shiro’s lips tingled as he remembered the heated kiss they’d shared in his second dream. It had been so romantic of Keith, running in to save him, helping him fight back his inner demons. He wished he could remember it better, but the more he tried to focus on it, the more blurry the memory became.

He arrived at his building early and decided to take the stairs up to his office to give him more time to think, but it didn’t help much. Romelle and Hunk would be able to help him; they were experts on this type of thing. He was sure he’d work out plenty of questions to ask them by the time his lunch break came around.

But several grueling hours of work later, Shiro still had no idea what to ask his friends. That didn’t stop him from making his way purposefully down the bustling streets towards their shop, hoping something would come to him along the way.

The shop was tucked away in the middle of a row of older buildings that had all recently been renovated with sleek modern exteriors, all save for it. It looked like a cottage had been transported into the middle of the city, or the city had sprung up around it as it refused to change with the times.

Shiro always liked looking at the weather-worn exterior. Strips of light gray-green paint hung on in chips and splotches but had largely been faded into white through the years. The awning shielded the sidewalk below from the harsh sunlight, and the windchimes hanging from it chittered merrily in the breeze. Shiro couldn’t help but run his hand over the flower basket hanging in front of the window, the soft pink and yellow petals tickling his fingers. He smiled every time he read the swirling letters lining the window: _Witch Slapped!_

He chuckled to himself as he pulled open the heavy oaken door, painted jet black. A bell announced his arrival and Romelle beamed at him when she looked up from behind the counter.

“Shiro!” She hopped over the gate and bounded up to him, encircling his neck with her arms. “It’s so good to see you! It’s been ages! What brings you here?”

He returned her warm embrace and dropped his arms to his sides, but before he could answer her, Hunk appeared from the back room with a flat look on his face. Very deliberately, he approached the gate and grabbed it gently, lifting the hinges and setting it back down. He cleared his throat pointedly and gestured to it with both hands.

“Be nice to the gate, Romelle. We’re _leasing.”_ He spent a long moment staring at her until she sighed and rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Oh hey, Shiro! Long time, no see!” Hunk said once he was satisfied with Romelle’s apologetic posture.

Shiro laughed and held a hand up in a brief wave. “Yeah, sorry. Work’s been killing me lately.” It wasn’t a lie, not completely. He had been working long hours, they were just mostly voluntary.

“Yeah, no doubt. Big fancy lawyer guy over here,” Hunk teased in a stage whisper, looking at Romelle and pointing. She put her hand over her mouth and giggled.

Shiro shook his head fondly. “I’m not a real lawyer yet, don’t oversell it.” He strode over to the counter and looked at all of the odd crystals, charms, and jewelry glittering under the harsh lighting. The creepy troll and gnome figurines made him wrinkle his nose.

Romelle followed him, curiosity twinkling in her eyes. “Are you here for a healing crystal, Takashi?” She asked sarcastically, leaning up against the glass.

“Well, I…” Shiro trailed off, unsure of how to continue. “I actually had something weird happen today. The last few days actually. More like a week.” He knew he was rambling and bit his tongue gently to keep it still for a moment. “I was looking for some advice.”

Romelle grinned and swirled her hand over the crystal ball sitting conspicuously on the counter. Shiro rolled his eyes but had a moment of panic that fortune telling, like angels (apparently), was actually real. Thankfully, Romelle pushed the ball onto its side with another laugh and waited until the weighted base righted the entire contraption. He figured that meant it was as fake as everything else sitting out in the open.

Hunk noticed the look of concern on his face and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sure thing, man. Tell us what happened.” His kind smile eased a little bit of Shiro’s trepidation.

“Well uh…” He cleared his throat, unsure of how to continue. “Do you think… are guardian angels real?”

Romelle and Hunk exchanged a glance. Shiro could feel the tension between them in the air.

“No,” Romelle replied emphatically.

“Maybe,” Hunk said at exactly the same time.

Shiro’s brows furrowed as they looked at each other, twin unamused expressions.

“There’s absolutely no evidence of angels of any kind. We’ve talked about this extensively.” Romelle put her hands on her hips.

Hunk brought his hands out in front of him in a pleading gesture. “That’s totally true, and a good point. However,” he took a deep breath and pointed into the back room. “We know like, a bunch of magic stuff. Seems silly to rule out angels.”

Romelle huffed and crossed her arms before turning back to Shiro. “We’ll just go round in circles until we get hungry, Shiro. What makes you ask about guardian angels?”

Shiro looked back and forth between them for a moment before threading his fingers together and letting them rest against his stomach. “I’ve been having nightmares for weeks and then suddenly this guy showed up and… well, whenever I was having a nightmare he fixed them. And then this morning I almost got run over by a bike and the same guy from my dream popped out of thin air and tackled me out of the way.”

Romelle and Hunk shared another look. “Are you sure it wasn’t just like, some guy you see on the way to work and dreamed about subconsciously?” Hunk asked gently.

Shiro frowned and crossed his arms. “He knew my name, and he responded when I said his. And he literally disappeared into thin air.”

Hunk’s eyes went wide and Romelle ran over to the window and flipped the Open sign to Closed. “Let’s head into the back room, shall we?” She grabbed Shiro’s arm on her way to the door without waiting for a response.

The back room was very different from the front of the store. Instead of kitschy New Age rubbish, the shelves were lined with ancient tomes and hand-labeled jars of various herbs and other ingredients. A simple circular table sat in the middle of the room, the old wood uncovered by cloth or varnish.

Shiro thought it must just be his imagination, but something about that place felt different. Goosebumps littered his arms under his jacket. At Romelle’s prompting, he took a seat at the table and tried to resist the urge to pick at a loose splinter on its surface.

Hunk and Romelle darted around the room, gathering up books that ranged from hand-bound leather-covered monsters that would put any encyclopedia to shame, to more modern paperbacks that wouldn’t look out of place on a grocery store shelf. Shiro glanced at the cover of each book they set down, but didn’t dare open any.

“So, what happened _exactly_ in these dreams?” Romelle started, opening one of the dustier books, helpfully titled _Dream Entities._

Shiro cleared his throat and described the bizarrely frustrating dream he sometimes had about his old gym teacher in college. His cheeks went red as he tried to explain that it was an awful dream despite how “rad,” as Hunk put it, playing badminton on the moon sounded. He could feel the tips of his ears flush to match the rest of his face when he described the way Keith had offered to play video games with him and the kiss he’d left on Shiro’s cheek before he’d woken up.

Romelle frowned as she flipped through a few of the pages. “He kissed you?”

“Like I said, just on the cheek. Is that important?” He straightened his posture to peer over the page Romelle was fretting over. The words hurt his head to look at, and he realized he’d left his glasses on his desk at work.

Hunk leaned over to see what she was reading and his face paled. “What about the next dream?”

Shiro sat back in his chair with a sigh and described the familiar nightmare in every gory detail. The oppressive heat, the thick jungle that threatened to suffocate him, the monsters that always attacked him. And then Keith had shown up with a sword and saved him right before the monsters tore him apart. It was hard for him to keep the wistfulness from his voice. He’d never had anyone, in reality or his dreams, willing to fight that hard for him. No one except Keith.

Hunk coughed as Shiro went on and on about how majestic Keith had been, how entirely he’d felt at ease around him, even surrounded by monsters. “Ok we get it, he was really cool. Did he kiss you again?”

Shiro began to worry that his blush would be a permanent fixture on his face as he nodded. “Yeah, uh,” he swallowed hard looked away from both of them. “On the lips that time, though.”

Romelle let out a squeak and Hunk put a hand over her forearm to comfort her. Shiro’s heart started racing. “What? Does that mean something?”

“Uh…” Hunk said with a cringe. “Maaaybe. Tell us about the third dream.”

Shiro rubbed his chin with a sigh. It was more than a little embarrassing have to tell his friends about dream-date that got a little too handsy even if he had backed off like a perfect gentleman when Shiro had asked. He told them about the odd conversation they’d had and how much better he’d felt when he woke up, despite how strange it had been. Like Keith had done something to physically boost his mood.

Romelle closed the book and steepled her fingers over it, but remained silent. Hunk’s lips pressed together to form a thin line as he nodded. “And then this morning he literally poofed into existence to tackle you out of harm’s way and poofed out again?” He asked, face grim.

Shiro nodded hesitantly. “What does the book say?”

He was getting very tired of the _significant glances_ Hunk and Romelle kept sharing.

“We think he might be a demon,” Romelle said with deliberate gentleness.

At the exact same time, in a much more panicked half-shout, Hunk replied, “He’s definitely a demon and he wants your soul!”

Shiro balked at the odd juxtaposition of their tones and their claims. “He’s not a demon! Why would a demon save my life? Or help me sleep better?” He crossed his arms and frowned at them. “You guys just don’t want to believe in guardian angels.”

Hunk leapt to his feet and let his palms slap onto the tabletop. “You’re in a _lot_ of danger, Shiro. Like a lot. A _demon_ is stalking you. A super scary one.”

Romelle stood much more sedately and and a pressed a hand onto his shoulder to calm him. “According to the book, he’s most likely an incubus.”

Shiro wrinkled his nose. “I’m assuming you don’t mean like the 90’s alt-rock band.”

Hunk leaned over the table and dropped his voice to a low hiss. “Even worse!” He grabbed the book and spun it around to face Shiro, opening it back up to the page they’d been reading as Shiro filled them in.

A horrible creature with fangs and horns and a spiked tail stared up him with black, empty eyes and a vicious grin. Its skin was bright red and covered in scales. Shiro leaned back and met Hunk’s eyes defiantly.

“That’s not what Keith looks like. He looks like a person, a really nice person. With normal hair he keeps in a ponytail and normal dark blue eyes and normal, not-scaly skin. And he definitely doesn’t have a tail.”

Romelle sighed and moved around the table to point out a passage in the entry. “They can shapeshift in dreams to seduce their prey. That probably wasn’t his real form.”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Well he’d have to be a really stupid sex demon to come after _me_ of all people.”

Hunk sat back down and furrowed his brows, bringing up a hand to rub chin in thought. “That’s true, it does seem kind of dumb to go after someone who doesn’t even like…” he waved his hand vaguely toward Shiro. “Do any of that.”

“Maybe he wanted to go for a challenge?” Romelle suggested.

“Hey! I’m not _a challenge._ What does that even mean?” He stood up and turned to leave. He knew Romelle hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, but it was more than a little frustrating to be described that way. Especially by a friend.  

Romelle hurried after him and put a gentle hand on his arm to stop him. “I’m so sorry, Shiro. That was thoughtless of me to say.” Her big blue eyes looked up him with genuine sorrow.

He gave her a small, tight-lipped smile and patted her hand. The words still stung, but they weren’t worth losing her friendship over. “Just, keep it in mind next time, okay?”

She nodded and stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I will. I’m sorry.”

Shiro forced out a chuckle and ruffled her hair, earning a squawk and a flurry of hands slapping at his. “Anyway, I better get back to work. We’ll talk more about all this demon stuff later.”

Hunk followed behind as Shiro made his way to the door and patted him on the back, wishing him well.

* * *

Hunk’s smile dropped as soon as the door slammed shut behind Shiro’s back. “Holy shit, a demon is after Shiro!” His eyes went wide and he sucked the tips of his fingers into his mouth. “What do we do?”

Romelle winced and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “We have to… we have to trap it. Right?” She looked back to their supply room and a bead of sweat formed at her brow. “We can’t just… let it kill him.”

The words sent a shiver down Hunk’s spine. “No, of course we can’t. I mean… we can’t. Right?” His stomach began twisting into knots.

Romelle nodded, the fear on her face ebbing into determination. “Well, let’s get to work then!” She turned and marched toward the back room with squared shoulders and a straight back.

Hunk didn’t move. He couldn’t make his feet follow after her even though he wanted to help.

A shock of blond hair flitted out of the doorway and Romelle looked up at him pleadingly. “Please come with me, I’m so scared.” A small well of tears brimmed at the bottom of her eyes.

Hunk’s vision blurred with his own unshed tears, but he nodded. His foot finally inched forward, followed by its mate. It took far longer than it should have to reach her.

They crept into the room together, arms linked at the elbows. Instead of the cozy study where they prepared spells for luck, elixirs for colds, or read up on interesting spells, the room felt like a crypt. Had the walls always been so close together? And so dark? Hunk shuddered.

“We have to do this. For Shiro.” His voice shook, but he dragged a chair around the table in front of the book, determined to find a way.

Romelle trembled next to him, but took the chair at his side anyway. “For Shiro,” she agreed quietly.

Their eyes tore over the pages, looking for references on how to banish or trap or destroy such a demon. It didn’t give them much to go on, but suggested a few grimoires that might have something. The small library only contained one of the tomes and neither of them had ever been brave enough to read it before that day.

Hunk swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and opened the thick, dusty volume with as much care as he could. The table of contents was filled with horrible things, things only the most vile of witches would ever attempt. It made his skin crawl, but he finally found the entry they were looking for: Incubus.

The artist’s rendition on the page was even worse than in _Dream Entities._ It had claws and even longer fangs and instead of being covered in red scales, it was purple and fuzzy. Hunk wasn’t sure why that was worse, but somehow it was.

“This spell doesn’t look that hard,” Romelle said, running her index finger along the ingredient list under the heading _To Ensnare._

Hunk didn’t like the look of it. “Yeah, I think we have all this stuff on hand, but…” he trailed off and shook his head. “We’ve never done this before. What if we mess it up and just summon it and it tries to eat us?”

Romelle hummed thoughtfully while Hunk sat sweating and catastrophizing in his own head. Her eyes lit up and she snapped her fingers. “We’ll do it at Shiro’s apartment!”

Hunk raised an eyebrow, panic replaced by confusion. “How exactly is that going to help us?”

Romelle grinned. “Matt has a bunch of anime swords! I don’t think they’re sharpened, but the demon will probably be pretty scared if he shows up and sees two witches with swords pointed right at him!” She held one hand up by her head and used the other to mime a stabbing motion.

Hunk felt his stomach churn. “I reeeeeally don’t like the idea of trying to bluff a demon.”

Romelle dropped her hands and gave him a flat look. “Well it’s the best plan we’ve got. We have to save Shiro!”

Hunk let a whine crawl its way out of his throat. “I guess. It’s better than just crossing our fingers and hoping for the best.” He hung his head. “Let’s get started on the spell.”

* * *

It only took them a few hours to collect and combine all but the last ingredient into the small vial that now sat on the wooden table. “Alright, I’ll pack up the paint, the book, and the spell. You call Matt and make sure he’s there to let us in.”

Romelle nodded and pulled out her phone, lightning thumbs dancing on the keyboard. Matt responded just as Hunk had tucked the vial into a nest of old towels he’d made at the bottom of a backpack.

“He says he’s home but he won’t let us borrow his swords,” Romelle said with a pout. “Apparently they’re _collectibles.”_

Hunk rolled his eyes. “We’ll he’s gonna have to _collect_ a new roommate when a friggin’ demon kills his current one,” he huffed. “Whatever, I’m way bigger than him, I’ll just shove him into the closet or something.”

Romelle blinked at him in surprise. “That doesn’t seem like you, Hunk.”

He waved a dismissive hand at her. “I used to do it for Pidge all the time. Trust me, he’s earned it.”

She stared at him for a moment with furrowed brows and then shrugged. “Yeah, ok.” She picked up the pack and slung it over her shoulder.

Hunk winced, fearing for the delicate ingredients inside. “Easy with that thing! There’s no telling what could happen if we break it.”

Romelle pulled the other strap over her shoulder and held onto both in a tight grip. “Better?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Hunk sighed but didn’t protest, bringing his arm up to gesture toward the door. “Let’s just get this over with,” he moaned.

She smiled at him and nodded curtly, bounding through the doorway and out of the shop. Hunk grumbled under his breath as he pulled the door shut and locked it behind them. “Oh it’s fiiiiine, Hunk. I’ll just shake all these super rare and expensive ingredients around even though we need them to _banish a demon that wants to kill our friend._ It’s all fiiiine.”

Romelle pretended not to hear him as she headed off down the sidewalk towards Shiro’s apartment. Hunk couldn’t help looking over his shoulder every few seconds for the entire walk. It seemed very unlikely that the demon would have heard them. Shiro had said he’d left in a hurry, but Hunk didn’t want to get taken by surprise.

Of course, the book had said that incubi could make themselves invisible to humans. Hunk shuddered at the thought. The demon could be watching him, getting ready to strike at any moment. He felt eyes on the back of his neck and looped his arm through Romelle’s, hurrying her along.

“Hey!” She wailed, her long legs only barely able to keep up with Hunk’s vaulting strides. “What happened to being _careful?”_

Hunk slowed, but only barely. “I have the heebie jeebies, man. I just wanna be done with this.” His neck bristled under the imagined scrutiny.

Romelle huffed, but didn’t protest. They made it to Shiro’s apartment in record time.

Matt answered the door with a frown. “Are you dweebs really still on this magic thing? You know it’s all fake.”

Hunk growled low in his throat. “Look, if you think it’s fake, that’s fine. Just give us your stupid swords for a minute and then when nothing happens you can make fun of us.”

Matt sighed and opened the door all the way, gesturing for them to come inside. “Take your shoes off, Shiro gets really anal about that.” He pointed toward the shoe rack just inside the door.

Romelle and Hunk kicked off their shoes and tucked them onto the rack, staring down at their socks. Romelle paled. “I hope the demon doesn’t look at our socks. I really wish I hadn’t gone with _Hello Kitty_ this morning.”

Hunk wiggled his big toe, letting the tip of it poke out of the small hole there. “Yeah… Hopefully he won’t.”

They both straightened, nodded to each other, and headed into the living room. Matt carefully laid two sheathed swords onto the coffee table and glared up at them. “If you put even a single scratch on these, I’m changing your public wifi name to weiner emporium.” He pointed his index and middle finger at both of them in turn. “I’ll do it.”

Hunk nodded a few times and grabbed one of them, sliding it out to appraise the gleaming metal. It was distressingly dull. “Yeah, sure, definitely. Totally fair.”

Matt bristled as Romelle picked the other sword up and did the same, swinging it around a few times with enthusiastic grunts and _hiyaah_ s. “They aren’t that sharp, but don’t… don’t stab anything. Or each other.”

Romelle and Hunk both nodded and vowed to be careful. Matt shook his head as he watched them set down the swords and move the couch up against the wall to gently roll up the area rug until as much cheap vinyl as possible was exposed.

“We’re _renting,_ so… just don’t lose us our deposit.” He threw up his hands and stalked back into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Romelle set the backpack down in the corner and carefully removed the vial containing the spell. Hunk took it from her just as gently and set it on the coffee table. He frowned down at the sludge-filled crystal sitting right on Shiro’s nice wooden table. A stack of NASA themed coasters caught his eye and he grabbed one, slipping it under the vial and nodding to himself with a satisfied smile.

Hunk dusted his hands off and turned to Romelle. “Okay, let’s paint the circle I guess.” Anxiety swirled in his stomach again.

They made quick work of slathering the tile in the black paint. The book had assured them that any marking agent would be fine, but had cautioned against chalk as it was easy to accidentally leave lines incomplete which would break the spell. Hunk silently prayed that Romelle had grabbed the most washable kind.

“Now we just… add in a bit of Shiro’s hair and dump it in the middle,” Romelle said, eyes darting to the coffee table with dread.

Hunk took a deep breath and let it out slowly before trudging into Shiro’s bathroom and grabbing his hairbrush. He carefully plucked one of the dark strands from the bristles and added it to the vial Romelle held in her shaking hands. Once it was mixed in, a cloud of violet smoke billowed from the mixture.

“Wait!” Hunk yelled, stopping Romelle as she tilted it toward the center of the summoning circle. He unsheathed both swords again and held one in each hand. “Okay, go ahead.” The metal practically vibrated in his trembling grip.

Romelle nodded and continued slowly tipping the mixture out of the crystal. It pooled in the center of the circle, bubbling at the contact with the floor. Hunk gritted his teeth and glanced back at Matt’s closed door. He really hoped they were able to wash all of this off before he found out.

When it was finally empty, Romelle replaced the stopper and jumped back, quickly taking one of the swords from Hunk. The liquid spread slowly in an ever-expanding perfect circle, despite being poured unevenly. A smell like burning pitch choked the air in the small living room and the lights began to flicker. It took all of the willpower Hunk had to keep from throwing up.

Matt’s door slammed open and he stomped into the living room. “Hey, the wifi went out, did you weirdos break some- holy shit! What did you do to my floor?”

Neither of them responded as the bubbling liquid swirled up from the center of the circle like a stalagmite made of tar. Matt’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open as it began to form into a vaguely humanoid silhouette.

“Oh my god, it worked,” Hunk said in an awed whisper.

“You didn’t think it was going to work!?” Matt shrieked. “Do you guys even know what you’re doing!?”

Romelle turned to him, her face ashen and deadly serious. “Mostly. Go to your room and lock the door. Don’t come out no matter what happens.”

Matt’s eyes grew even wider and he followed her instructions, running the few short steps back to his bedroom.

Romelle let out a quiet sigh of relief at seeing him go and gave Hunk a determined nod. “We can do this.”

Hunk nodded absently. “Yeah, yeah. Yeah. Of course we can. We can totally do this.” He focused on keeping his breathing even and measured. _Just gotta… trick a demon into not killing us or our friends. That’s… yeah. We can do this._

Smoke billowed out from the inky, syrupy column and dissipated in an instant, leaving behind a lean male figure in a black t-shirt and ripped jeans. Hunk blinked in surprise. The demon had a ponytail.  

“Who the fuck just summoned me?” The demon growled in a surprisingly not-scary voice. Big indigo eyes blinked in confusion and then widened in shock. He looked around frantically. “Shit. Where’s Shiro? And who are you idiots? Are those _Hello Kitty_ socks?”

Romelle held her sword up and squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes! They are! And we summoned you here to make sure you never hurt Shiro again!” The words tumbled from her lips at a frantic pace.

“Oh man… You guys have to release me right now.” The demon seemed almost scared.

“Not until you swear you’ll leave Shiro alone!” Hunk bellowed, holding his sword out more menacingly.

The demon shook his head. “I’m not going to hurt Shiro, I swear. I would _never.”_ His voice broke on the word and he had to clear his throat before continuing. “But you guys are in a lot of danger. You summoned me right out of a disciplinary committee hearing. My boss is gonna be pissed when he finds out it was you.”

Hunk paled and lowered his sword. “There’s a disciplinary committee in hell?”

_Several Hours Earlier_

Keith coughed and gagged, his entire body felt like it was being ripped apart as he screamed through the murky nothingness between realms. Vertigo overtook him. There was no true up or down in the void, but all of his sense were wailing in disorientation. Finally, blessedly, he came to a stop on a hard concrete floor. He laid there for a long moment, gasping and panting with his arms and legs spread wide.

A prim cough made all the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “Please, feel free to continue lounging about my floor. Really, I have nothing more pressing to deal with.”

Lotor’s sarcastic voice sent an icy shiver through his core. Keith gritted his teeth and grunted, pulling himself to his feet. “Sorry, uh, your highness.”

Lotor frowned at him. “Do you know why you’ve been summoned here, Kenneth?” He crossed his arms over his silk robe.

Keith winced. “It’s Keith, actually.” Lotor had disciplined him many times, it was unspeakably rude that he’d never even bothered to learn Keith’s name.

Lotor blinked at him, face perfectly neutral. “I couldn’t possibly care about anything less.” He buffed the claws of one hand against the silk at his collar and inspected them, clearly waiting for Keith to respond.

Keith tried not to growl at the blatant disrespect. “Right. Well, I’m guessing it was because I saved Shiro’s life.” He couldn’t keep the defiant, self-righteous tone out of his voice.

Lotor rolled his eyes. “He was going to get hit by a bicycle. At worst he would have broken a bone or two, there’s no need to be dramatic.”

The irony of the statement wasn’t lost on Keith. He stared blankly at Lotor, standing in front of him in a lavish robe just a few shades darker than his purple skin, a golden crown emblazoned with gemstones of a deep blue sitting atop his long silver hair. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

  
Finally Lotor coughed, dispelling the awkward silence. “Anyway. You’ve admitted that you broke the rules, so you’ll be sent back to the training center for a few millennia. Hopefully they’ll be able to work out your issues.” He brushed his hand out toward Keith in a dismissive, shooing motion.

Keith stood up straighter and squared his shoulders. “I think I had ample cause,” he said, trying to pull as much confidence as he could muster into his voice. The thought of going back to the training center made his skin crawl, and not just because it would mean never seeing Shiro again. “I demand a disciplinary committee hearing.”

Lotor visibly deflated, his broad shoulders slumped and he let out a growled groan that echoed through the vast room. “I know I’m the Prince of Hell, but must God continually punish me for the sins of my father?”

Keith knew better than to answer that particular rhetorical question, but he didn’t back down or look away.

“Very well,” Lotor mumbled, snapping his fingers.

He was teleported to another chamber and Keith swallowed hard as he stared up at the gleaming red and yellow eyes glaring down at him in the dramatically dimmed light. The disciplinary committee was made of Lotor’s most trusted advisors. They were feared throughout every circle of the underworld.

“Oooh, he’s kinda cute,” a surprisingly high-pitched voice said from one of the towering thrones above him.  

“Will you turn on a damn light?” A gruff voice interrupted, ignoring the other woman’s statement entirely. “I can’t see a thing!”

“How tragic for you,” a mixed tone of purr and hiss called from the other side of the room. “Not being able to see.”

“Ladies please,” another woman begged, sounding very tired.

The lights brightened, casting the room in a soft amber glow. Keith cocked his head to the side and studied the faces looming over him. They really didn’t seem all that scary, even the one without eyes.

“This little pipsqueak!?” The gruff woman said with a barked laugh. “I say toss him in Pit 3, those guys’ll have him whipped into shape in no time.”

“Zethrid, we have to hear his case first before we can sentence him,” the tired woman replied.

“You’re no fun, Acxa. When did you get boring?” Squeaky crooned in disappointment.

Acxa rubbed her temples. “Keith, you’ve been accused of violating two of the codes of your order. How do you plead?”

Keith stood tall and crossed his arms. “Innocent. I had to protect my assigned human or his soul would have been released to Heaven.”

“That’s only part of why you’re here, dumb dumb!” the squeaky woman said through a snorted laugh.

Keith furrowed his brows. What else had he done wrong? Had Haxus already finished his audit somehow? Those usually took ages.

“Ezor please.” Acxa turned to glare at her. Ezor mimed pulling a zipper over her lips. “Your plea for the second infraction is noted. What do you have to say about the first?”

“I have no idea what it was,” Keith replied honestly with as little attitude as he could manage.

“Narti, please explain.” She rubbed two fingers into her forehead.

The woman with no eyes grinned with a mouth full of fangs. Keith felt all the blood leave his face.

She steepled her fingers in front of her chin. “Uncorruptive syphoning of soul potentiality.”

The awkward legalese didn’t make any sense to him. “Huh?”

Ezor broke out into another fit of giggles. “You’re not supposed to suck out his soul without sucking his d-”

“Ezor!” Acxa interrupted with a growl. She turned her exhausted eyes back to Keith. “What my colleague means, is that the exchange of soul energy through emotional intimacy doesn’t break down the victim’s soul and thus it doesn’t speed up the process by which Hell can claim it. It’s strictly forbidden.”

“Oh.” It made slightly more sense when she explained it that way, but not by much. “I didn’t even know I could do that. How does it work?”

Zethrid made a disgusted face. “Because you lo~ve him,” she mocked.

Keith’s face erupted in blush. “Whatever,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

Acxa sighed wearily. “How do you plead?”

“I don’t know? It seems kind of stupid to punish me for something I didn’t even know I was doing.”

Narti turned her head to Acxa. “He does have a point.” Her voice made goosebumps run up his arms.

Acxa shrugged and nodded. “We have to decide what to do with you. Stay here while we deliberate.”

Keith nodded once and all four women disappeared, leaving him alone. It seemed like a pretty cut and dry case, from his point of view. What else could they have expected of him? Surely they’d be done talking soon and they’d release him with a slap on the wrist so he could get back to Shiro and figure out what was going on.

He couldn’t help but think about what Zethrid had said. _She’s right,_ he realized distantly. _I have to… I have to tell him._

The thought made his stomach lurch. Shiro was so kind and nice and handsome, there was no way he felt the same way about a second-rate demon with authority issues. Keith kicked at the ground in frustration. There was no use dwelling on it; he’d have to wait and see what the committee said.

An hour later, they still hadn’t returned. Keith sat down on the cold stone floor. After another hour he flopped down on his back. At some point, he dozed off and found himself rudely awakened by another summoning spell.

It was much clumsier than Lotor’s or even Sendak’s had been. Instead of being flung through the void at breakneck speed and not having a moment to find his bearings or prepare himself, he was drifting casually, being gently tugged along as if tied to a string. Keith was still tired and trying to get his head working properly and decided to allow it to pull him along.

The edge of the mortal world grabbed at him and he allowed himself to be dragged bit by bit into the light. It felt like he was encased in mud and Keith railed against his prison. His sleep-addled mind finally snapped back into full cognition and he realized that leaving during the middle of a disciplinary committee meeting was not going to do him any favors, even if he had been summoned against his will. He pulsed out against the barrier and waited for it to melt.

Keith was almost sad for the poor saps who had summoned him. The committee would notice he was gone eventually and alert his supervisor. God help those mortals if Sendak came after him personally. Or worse, Lotor.

Finally, a plume of smoke swirled around him and drifted harmlessly away. Keith blinked away the burning in his eyes and frowned at the oddly familiar coffee table in front of him. Icy cold dread ran down his spine in waves at the recognition. He was in Shiro’s living room.

* * *

 

“Yeah,” Keith said through gritted teeth, remembering the odd and unpleasant experience. “So break the circle and let me go before you all die. I don’t want Shiro to be in any danger.”

Romelle’s brows furrowed and she opened her mouth to speak, but it quickly turned into a squeal of confused fright as Matt’s door slammed open. He was holding yet another sword and screaming like a banshee as he ran straight at Keith. With a clearly unpracticed motion, he slammed the blade into Keith’s chest.

Keith glared down at the metal resting against his chest. “What are you doing? That isn’t even sharp.”

Matt gulped down the last of his battle cry and went slightly green. “I thought I had the power of God and anime on my side?” His uncomfortable smile and awkward laugh made him look like he was about to be sick.

Keith reached out and pushed at Matt’s chest with the tips of three fingers. Matt shot back across the room and gently bumped into the wall.

“Ok seriously, stop fu-”

The apartment door opened and Shiro walked in, mouth gaping as his eyes roved around the living room. “Keith?” His voice was so quiet Keith almost couldn’t hear it. They smiled at each other. “What are you doing here?”

“We summoned him,” Hunk replied flatly. “Because he’s a demon.”

“He’s not a demon! He saved my life!” Shiro protested, frantically flinging his arms in Keith’s direction.

“The summoning circle _worked,”_ Romelle interrupted. “Because he’s a demon!”

Shiro let out heaving sigh and looked pleadingly toward Keith.

Keith’s face scrunched into a guilty grimace. “I, uh, I am actually a demon. But I’m not here to take your soul.”

Shiro’s eyes widened in shock and confusion. “What do you-”

“I’m sorry, we really don’t have time for this right now.” Keith’s chest ached looking at the heartbroken expression on Shiro’s face. His own face wilted and he pulsed out toward Shiro with all of his desperation and fear, praying it would be enough to garner Shiro’s understanding, before turning back to Hunk and Romelle. “We have about about two minutes to make a spell that will bind me to someone in this room.” He risked a glance at Shiro again. “Obviously I’d prefer Shiro, but if we don’t do this right now, we’re all gonna die horribly.”

“How do we do the spell?” Romelle asked.

At the same time, Hunk said, “No way! We’re not binding someone to a demon!”

They shared another significant look.

“Do the spell,” Shiro said quietly, voice strained with anxiety. Keith felt his heart lurch again.

“Fiiiiine,” Hunk groaned, grabbing a sticky note and a pen from the coffee table. He handed both of them to Keith and waited, with crossed arms and a tapping foot, for him to finish writing it out.

Hunk tore the paper from Keith's hand almost as soon as he'd finished writing and took it over to Romelle. Their eyes tore over the words several times each and their faces furrowed in concentration as they discussed it in hushed whispers. Keith kept his gaze fixed on Shiro, blood pumping so loudly in his ears that it drowned out every other sound.

Shiro was still standing near him, just on the outside of the painted circle. His arms were crossed and his face was grim, eyes locked on the floor. Keith wanted to reach out and touch his arm, assure him that everything would be okay, or at least apologize for misleading him.

"Matt, do you have anything that's actually sharpened?" Romelle asked, not looking up from the notes Hunk was making on the small yellow strip of paper.

"Uhhh," Matt said eloquently, eyes still as wide as dinner plates.

Keith sighed and summoned a small knife into his outstretched hand. "Use this. It's already magic, works better that way."

Hunk let out a tiny moan of trepidation but took the knife cautiously from Keith's grip. "Okay, Shiro, come'ere." He gestured for Shiro to enter the circle and stand closer to Keith.

Shiro didn't say anything, but he did as Hunk asked. Hunk reached out and grabbed Shiro hand, but didn’t move the knife any closer. He chuckled uncomfortably. “You know, this is kinda like a super weird wedding.”

Keith and Shiro both stared at him flatly. “It totally is!” Hunk protested. “Although it’s like… way too soon. You guys have basically only been on three dates. And they were like… dream dates. Is that better or worse than a regular date?” He tapped at his chin with the knife without realizing what he was doing.

“Hunk, please just get on with it,” Shiro urged in annoyance.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Nervous.” Hunk laughed uncomfortably again, but took Shiro’s hand and uncurled his palm with a brief apologetic smile for what he was about to do. Keith reached out and took his wrist before he could make the cut.

"Don't do his palm, you watch too much TV," Keith chastised. "Do the outside of his forearm. Heals faster and doesn't hurt as much."

Hunk bristled at the admonishment but did as Keith said, making a quick, shallow slice against Shiro's arm which quickly began to well with blood. Shiro didn't flinch.

He turned toward Keith and repeated the cut just as carefully. Keith stared down at their bleeding arms until Romelle grabbed his hand and flipped his arm at an awkward angle to press his cut against Shiro's. She and Hunk whispered the incantation while holding their arms together.

An odd crawling sensation started at the incision and quickly swept its way up Keith's arm. If Shiro's uncomfortable expression was anything to go on, he felt it too. The lights grew brighter until Keith had to squeeze his eyes shut against them.

The others gasped in surprise, seeing the blinding light as well. The tingling sensation continued up Keith's arm and spread across his chest, working its way up to the top of his head and down to his feet. It was strange, but not uncomfortable. It felt right, somehow.

Once the strange feeling began to ebb, Keith risked cracking an eye open. The light had dimmed back to a comfortable level and Shiro was staring at him, face inscrutable. He realized he could feel both of their hearts beating, just a microsecond out of sync. Keith turned his hand over in Romelle's loose grip and threaded their fingers together. Shiro squeezed them softly and gave Keith a tight-lipped smile.

Everyone jumped and gasped in surprise as a huge plume of purple smoke filled the middle of the room. Lotor stepped out of it, hands balled into fists at his sides. "Where is the punk ass witch I'll be killing today?" Tiny flames erupted from his mouth and nostrils as he spoke.

A stunned, horrified silence overtook the room. No one moved. Lotor surveyed the room with murder in his eyes until they landed on Keith and saw the faint trickle of blood running down his arm. “You didn’t.”

Keith stared back at him and stood up straighter, his grip tightening on Shiro’s hand.

Lotor let out an ear blistering mix of a throaty growl and a whining moan. “This is going to be so much paperwork.” He summoned a huge, unwieldy sword in one hand.

“Wait!” Keith took a step forward and held his hand out toward Lotor pleadingly. “Aren’t there… I don’t know, rules? Since I’m bound to the human now?”

“You don’t even know the rules!?” Matt piped in from the corner, gripping at his hair. “Is this amateur hour or something? God, I need new friends.” He buried his face in his hands and shook his head.

Lotor took in a deep breath and smoothed down his immaculately styled hair. “That pathetic mortal is right, you are all embarrassing amateurs. And of course there are rules. Not that you’ve _ever_ cared about those before.” He grunted and came to stop in front of Shiro.

Shiro squared his shoulders and looked the hulking demon right in the eyes, but said nothing.

Lotor brought his hand up and waved it over Shiro’s head. “Congratulations, you’re now immune to cancer of every kind. Do try to live a very, very long life.”

Shiro’s brows furrowed. “Thanks? I guess.”

“You’re quite welcome. I’m looking forward to 80 or so years without this being my problem.” He turned to Hunk and Romelle, who were quivering together and holding up their swords in trembling hands. “If you ever try to ensnare another one of my demons, I will kill you. And it will be horrible.”  

They both nodded and tried to squeak out small sounds of agreement.

Lotor turned back to Keith and opened his mouth as if to speak, but shut it again just as quickly. With a wave of his hand, he disappeared in another mass of billowing purple smoke. No one said anything for a long, uncomfortable moment.

“Well that was dramatic,” Hunk murmured, straightening himself and sheathing his sword. Romelle followed suit.

Matt finally stood up on shaking legs. “I’m gonna… go stay with my parents this weekend. You guys better have this cleaned up by the time I get back.” He used the wall as support to walk back into his bedroom. The door clicked shut very quietly.

“You guys probably have a lot to talk about, so…” Romelle held her hands in front of her chest and poked her index fingers together.

Hunk looked around the room before settling on staring at the floor. “Yeah, we should probably just… go.”

Shiro nodded and gestured toward the door, face impassive and resigned. They both hurried from the apartment, carrying their shoes instead of stopping at the door to put them on. Without looking at Keith, Shiro walked into the kitchen to fill a bowl with hot soapy water.

“I, uh...” Keith cleared his throat. “I can’t leave the circle until it’s broken.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Shiro.

Shiro didn’t reply, but brought the bowl over and knelt down, scrubbing at the black paint with his wet rag. As soon as the line was broken, Keith’s shoulders slumped. The claustrophobic sensation of the circle finally faded and he moved out of it just to reassure himself that he could.

He walked around the edge of the circle, not wanting to go back inside, and sat down next to Shiro while he sat scrubbing at the floor in even strokes. The water quickly turned a muddy gray from the black paint.

“I can help if you have another rag,” Keith offered quietly.

Shiro turned his head and Keith prepared himself for an icy glare. Instead, there was a soft smile on Shiro’s face. “Thanks. They’re in the kitchen. First drawer on the right next to the sink.”

Keith smiled back at him and nodded, leaping to his feet and retrieving another rag from the tidy kitchen. He started working in the opposite direction from Shiro to cover more ground. Their elbows bumped a few times and they laughed awkwardly with each other.

Half an hour and few refills of their bowl later, they were nearly finished when Matt strode out of his room wearing a backpack and carrying a duffle bag. “Oh man, I was really hoping all of this was some kind of weird fever dream.” His face was still pale.

“Tell your dad I said hi,” Shiro replied, ignoring the elephant in the room. “And give your mom a hug from me.”

Matt opened and closed his mouth a few times, incoherent sounds tumbling from his lips. “Yeah, okay,” he finally said before throwing his hands up and letting them fall back to his sides. He walked calmly out of the living room, pausing by the door to put on his shoes, and left the apartment without saying anything else.

Anxiety clawed at Keith’s stomach as soon as they were finished cleaning the rest of the residue from the spell off the floor. Shiro sat back on the tile with his legs spread wide and his hands supporting him from behind, giving Keith a puzzled look.

“So you’re a demon.” It wasn’t a question.

Keith nodded and sat across from him, tucking his shins up under his thighs. “Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Shiro shrugged and curled up to sit cross-legged, letting his hands fall into his lap. “You didn’t really have much of a chance.”

He wasn’t sure how to reply, so he just sat on the floor, nervously running his thumb along the trail of dried blood on his hand.

“Hunk and Romelle said you were an incubus,” Shiro said a few minutes later, finally breaking the thick silence.

Keith nodded again, trying to find the words to tell Shiro that it would be okay. That he wasn’t going to hurt him, no matter what. He didn’t really understand _how,_ but that didn’t matter.

Shiro let out a huff of frustration and ran his hand through his hair. “We have to figure out how to get Hunk or Romelle to undo this binding.”

Keith’s head snapped up as quickly as his stomach dropped. “Why? We’d both be in danger. Lotor would know and he’d drag me away and he might try to hurt you.”

Shiro’s lips pursed into a thin line. “I don’t know very much about incubi, but I’m pretty sure you’re in more danger being bound to me than you are from Lotor.”

“I doubt that.” Keith tried to keep the frustration from his voice. If Shiro wanted him to go, he’d respect that, but it still hurt.

Shiro’s eyes met his and Keith was surprised at the hardness in them. “I’m not going to apologize for being who I am, but I… I can’t be what you need, Keith.”

“Shiro…” Keith’s voice shook. “Is this about… what you didn’t want to say yesterday?”

Shiro nodded. “I don’t want you to die, Keith.” His voice was shaking too. “But you have to...” he paused, waving his hands awkwardly in front of himself without meeting Keith’s eyes. “To have sex to steal energy or whatever. I don’t know, I looked it up on Wikipedia today.”

“That’s… well that’s basically how it works,” Keith admitted with a shrug.

Shiro took a deep breath and finally looked up at him. “I’m asexual, Keith. I don’t… I don’t do that.”

The quiet confession made a thousand little light bulbs go off in Keith’s mind. His powers hadn’t worked before when he was trying to seduce Shiro because he was trying to amplify a feeling that _didn’t exist._ It made perfect sense.

“I guess I could _try,_ but I’m not exactly comfortable with the idea. I think it would be better to break the binding and figure out how to keep Lotor off your back.” He nodded to himself once in determination.

Keith cocked his head to the side. “I would never want you to be uncomfortable, Shiro. I’ll do whatever I can to help break the binding if that’s what you decide, but I think we can stay bound without doing anything you don’t want to.” He didn’t know how to explain without revealing his true feeling, though he feared Shiro would ask and he couldn’t bear the thought of lying to him. “I think… I think just being around you is enough.”

Shiro’s cheek flushed. “What makes you say that?”

“I didn’t mean to, but I was able to suck energy from you before, without hurting your soul.” Keith tried to keep his tone even and measured.

“Oh,” Shiro replied, clearing his throat. “Do you… do you know how you did that?”

He’d expected the question even though he dreaded Shiro’s reaction to it. “The committee said it was because I, uh...” He swallowed past the lump in his throat and forced himself to hold Shiro’s gaze. “Because I’m in love with you.”

“Oh.” Shiro said again, blush creeping up to the tips of his ears. “That’s… well it’s a little sudden, isn’t it?”

Keith felt dizzy and sick. He didn’t know how to respond. “I’m not sure,” he replied honestly. “It’s never happened to me before.”

Shiro adjusted his glasses and looked down at the floor. “So… what do we do?”

Keith smiled, feeling the pit in stomach uncoil a little. “Well I did a lot of research on Super Smash Brothers after our first… I mean the first time we… when I was in your dream.” His cheeks darkened to match the blush covering Shiro’s. It was at least a better reaction than he was expecting.

His eyes lit up and he grinned, it made Keith’s heart swell. “That sounds easy enough!” He glanced over at the couch sitting haphazardly against the wall instead of in front of the TV. “Help me with the couch?”

Keith stood up and stretched, excitement thrumming through him. He offered his hand to Shiro and helped him stand up. “Sorry Hunk had to cut you,” he murmured with a frown, looking down at the red and brown streak of dried blood on Shiro’s arm.

Shiro smiled and squeezed Keith’s hand, pulling him into a one-armed hug. “It was worth it to save you.”

Keith nuzzled his head into Shiro’s neck. He didn’t try to kiss the skin exposed there, the almost burning need he’d felt to jump Shiro’s bones had faded when he’d realized his true feelings and what they meant. His eyes fluttered shut and he basked in the feeling of Shiro’s embrace. Energy began to swirl between them, flowing into him like the tide.

Shiro chuckled. “I think I can feel you doing that.”

Keith pulled back with a worried frown. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“No, no. It feels kind of nice, actually.” His blush returned in earnest.

Keith grinned. “Good.”

Shiro scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but there’s something I’ve been wondering about all day.”

Keith nodded for him to continue.

“Is this,” Shiro gestured toward him. “Is this what you really look like? Or do you have some sort of… demon form?”

Keith blanched. “This… isn’t my true form.”

“Can I see it?”

The quiet question made the hair on the back of Keith’s neck stand on end. He didn’t want to scare Shiro away so soon after almost losing him. He took a deep breath and nodded.

Forcing a smile onto his face he gestured towards the couch. “It’ll be easier if we’re sitting down.” He tried not to cringe. “It can be a little overwhelming for mortals.”

Shiro grinned and hurried over to the couch. His excitement flowed through their bond and made Keith’s smile feel a little less fake. Realizing Shiro somehow wasn’t terrified made him feel a lot better about the whole thing. Once they had the couch and rug situated again, they sat down.

“Should I be farther away?” Shiro rubbed his palms on his knees. Their legs were almost touching.

Keith shook his head. “This is fine.” He took a deep breath and tried to still his thumping heart. “I’m gonna start now.”

He didn’t wait for Shiro’s reaction to start the onerous process of unweaving his human form. It had been centuries since he’d last fully unraveled it. He could feel the facade fading away, felt his teeth growing longer and sharper, felt his hair parting around the thick, twisting horns that began to jut out from his head. The sleek ponytail he preferred coiled into a thick braid that ran down between his shoulder blades. His ears flattened and elongated.

Transformation complete, he took another steadying breath and opened his eyes.

Instead of fear or horror, Shiro had a look of unbridled awe on his face. “Keith,” he whispered. “You’re… you’re so beautiful.”

Keith felt tears welling in his eyes. “Really?”

Shiro nodded enthusiastically and scooted closer. “Can I… can I touch your horns?” His fascination was palpable.

Keith ducked his head down and tried not to wiggle at the odd sensation as Shiro ran a tentative finger down one of the long, twisting protrusions. Just as Keith was getting used to the feeling, Shiro lowered his hand. Keith looked up at him uncertainly.

“Thank you,” he murmured, reaching out and taking Keith’s hand, threading their fingers and giving them a light squeeze. Keith wasn’t sure what to say, so he just smiled and squeezed back.

Shiro’s face flushed again. “I’m sorry I didn’t say so before, but… I wanted to see the real you. I had to be sure…” He trailed off and looked away.

“Didn’t say what?” Hope twisted its way up Keith’s chest and stuck to his throat.

Shiro looked back at him with an uneasy smile. “I… I think I’m in love with you too. I know it’s crazy, we barely know each other, but...” He shook his head and shrugged.

Butterflies exploded in Keith’s stomach and he couldn’t keep the grin from his face. “Is kissing ok?” He asked once he was sure Shiro wasn’t going to continue his thought.

Shiro gave him a short nod and leaned in. Keith closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together in a soft, chaste kiss. An intense surge of energy pulsed into him as Shiro tilted his head and reached up to bury his hand in Keith’s thick hair. They parted a moment later with matching grins and pink cheeks.

“I’m really glad you don’t have a tail.” Shiro slapped a hand over his mouth and winced at his own words.

Keith’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Why? What’s wrong with tails?”

Shiro shook his head. “Hunk showed me a picture of an incubus in his book and I was very adamant that you weren’t a demon and absolutely didn’t have a tail.” He gave Keith a guilty smile. “I didn’t wanna be _completely_ wrong.”

Keith squeezed his hand again. “What did you think I was?”

“You’re gonna laugh,” Shiro murmured, looking away.

Keith reached up and gently tilted his chin back. “Please tell me?”

Shiro sighed but nodded. “I thought you were… my guardian angel.”

“Wow,” Keith grinned.

“Don’t laugh!” Shiro swatted at his arm playfully.

Keith leaned in and rubbed his nose against Shiro’s. “Can I be your guardian demon instead?”

“Absolutely.” Shiro tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss to Keith’s cheek.

 

* * *

 

_Epilogue_

* * *

 

“No, no, no, no!” Pidge wailed, standing up and smashing furiously at the buttons on her controller.

She and Keith were both down to their last lives and their damage percentages were almost maxed. Shiro and Matt sat silently on the edge of their seats, unblinkingly staring at the screen. They were hardly even breathing. Keith, in stark contrast, was leaning back on the couch, posture relaxed but brows furrowed in concentration. His knee was just barely touching Shiro’s as his thumbs flew over the controller.

Keith grinned wickedly and dodged Pidge’s attack, leaping over her and picking up the baseball bat that had just dropped onto the stage. With vicious laugh, he smacked her character three times in rapid succession and held his controller aloft as she spun off the map and a voice declared his team the victors.

“No!” Pidge and Matt cried in unison, both flopping to the ground.

Shiro turned and threw his arms around Keith, pulling him in for a tight hug. Keith melted into his chest, feeling the shining light of Shiro’s soul surging into him through the affection. “You were amazing, Keith!” he said with a laugh.

“Ugh, that’s not fair. He’s a demon! He probably cheated!” Pidge moaned as she dragged herself off of the floor.

Keith stuck his tongue out at her. “I didn’t cheat, I’ve been practicing.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What else am I supposed to do while you guys are at work?”

Matt shook his head. “I still can’t believe Shiro had a demon sugar baby.” He stood up off the floor and stretched.

Shiro wrinkled his nose. “It’s not like he can go get a job. He doesn’t have a social security number!”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You nerds done with this pizza?” She pulled the last slice of room temperature pepperoni from the box, not giving the boys an opportunity to protest as she jammed a third of it into her mouth.

Shiro laughed as Matt tried to swipe the slice from her hand and she ducked under his flailing arms, but it quickly turned into a yawn. “Ugh, I’m too old to stay up this late.” He elbowed Keith gently in the arm. “You ready for bed?”

Keith smiled at him, a warm glow filling his chest. “Sure.”

Pidge pretended to retch. “Quit making goo-goo eyes on the couch. I have to sleep there!” She menaced them with her half-eaten piece of cold pizza.

“You could just go home, it’s like a ten minute drive,” Matt grumbled, still trying to grab for her food.

Pidge stepped on his foot, making him howl with twice the drama the kick deserved. “You’re not weaseling out of taking me to Hunk and Romelle’s store tomorrow, so don’t even try it.” Matt deflated and sighed.

They all shared a laugh and bid each other good night as Shiro and Keith made their way to Shiro’s bedroom. They stripped down to their underclothes and crawled underneath of the blankets, snuggling up together and tangling their legs.

Before Shiro could lean over and turn off the lamp, Keith leaned across him and picked up Dr. Worm, stuffing him in the crook of Shiro’s arm. Shiro grinned and pressed a kiss to Dr. Worm’s forehead and then to Keith’s.

“Good night, Keith,” he whispered, rubbing his nose along Keith’s.

Keith closed his eyes smiled. “Good night, Shiro.”

Shiro turned the light off and pulled Keith in close. Energy surged in Keith’s core again and he used it to send a calming pulse of relaxation into Shiro. They were both asleep in minutes.


End file.
